Demons
by DeathRace6000
Summary: "There was no one around to scream, but it was all she heard, varying in pitches, octaves, and genders; voices that belonged to no body screamed and pleaded with her to do something. They pleaded for their Princess to save them. Their Princess couldn't save them, not then, and surely not now. She was powerless; her strength left behind. She was no savior."


**Prologue**

_"And the runaway bride has returned..."_

She found herself in a ballroom. The room shimmered as if it resided in two separate dimensions. If looked at one way, it was filled to the brim with beautiful creatures, dressed in gorgeous silver and gold, halos of light glowing around their forms. Wings crafted from snowy white feathers sprouted from their backs. _Angels. _She found herself wanting to reach out and stroke their soft feathers, to join them, that is, until they changed. Beauty, a well played lie that she had seen foiled many a time was torn away like a sheet being ripped off of an art piece, unveiling what lay beneath. The halos of light turned to shadows that curled around, dancing, teasing her, and then dispersing, escaping to the far corners of the world. Feather after feather fell to the ground in bloody clumps; whimsical snowfall on the ground. Faces rippled and changed, distorting into things so grotesque that she wanted to close her eyes and cleanse the image from her mind, but found herself captivated, drawn in by monstrous beauty. These creatures, in any form, were of her world, yet not. She was one of them, yet she wasn't.

_"Your charade cannot last much longer."_

Smooth fingertips traced the rigid bone of her spine, feeling every little groove and curve. The touch was electrifying, unearthly, chilling. She hated it, yet she craved it, for it was so familiar, soothing almost. She leaned back into the warm embrace of whoever was behind her, shivering in delight as a pair of wings, decorated with obsidian feathers enveloped her.

_"Come back to us."_

She wanted to agree. These sensations she felt were mesmerizing; she wanted to stay in this stranger's hold forever. But she..._couldn't. _Something was wrong with all of this. It was too perfect; too pleasurable. She pushed past the feathery curtains, snaking out of the stranger's grasp. She had left this all before, and for a good reason too. She just couldn't remember _why. _Why had she left all of this...

_"Blood will be shed if you do not return."_

The creatures around her had dissappeared, replaced by severed limbs and an endless sea of red. Blood. Her stomach churned, nausea hitting her hard, she reached for something to hold on to, anything. A chair appeared, granting her wish, and she held onto the back of it to still her swaying body. There was no one around to scream, but it was all she heard, varying in pitches, octaves, and genders; voices that belonged to no body screamed and pleaded with her to do something.

They pleaded for their Princess to save them.

Their Princess couldn't save them, not then, and surely not now. She was powerless; her strength left behind. She was no savior.

_"We will slaughter every last one of them."_

The room was swallowed by fire; everything went up in flames. She could not see past the vibrant orange fire or the fireflies of ember, which something that she was almost thankful for. She did not want to watch her world go up in flames. She did not want to watch her world die. Perhaps that is why she had left. She couldn't watch everything she loved perish.

_"Return to us, or this fate will fall upon that pitiful world of yours"_

The fire spread, inching towards her, until she was confined to a tiny little circle of crystal, standing on the very tips of her toes. Stray flames reached out and gently licked the skirt of her dress, charring and stripping the material of it's beauty. She had no room to dance out of the way, no desire to, and made a decision that she would burn with her world.

_"You belong to us. You will stay with us."_

An illusion, the fire had been, an illusion the death and destruction had been. The ballroom was empty, with her being the only occupant save for a man whose face she could not make out. He lounged on a throne constructed entirely out of bones and thorns, his fingers dancing along the surface of an ink colored blade. On his head, tangled in his silvery white tendrils of hair rested a circle of obsidian fashioned into a rough, jagged crown.

_"My Princess of the Underworld, join us."_

From the ground next to him, a second throne arose, similar to his own, but covered with a soft, black velvet. Resting in the seat, on the plush velvet was a tiny silver tiara with carvings stained black. Nostalgia hit her hard. She had once worn that crown. No matter how much she wanted to reach out, take her crown in her hands once more, she knew she couldn't. This was her temptation; her forbidden fruit.

_"Take it."_

"No."

Her voice was quiet, but firm.

_"Denying us, are you?"_

The man rose to his full height, towering a foot or two over her. His wings, the ones that she had loved the touch of earlier, spread to their full length, giving him a much more menacing look. He took slow, purposeful steps over to her, stopping when he got within an arms distance from her. One of his wings lightly brushed her bare shoulder. The inky feathers contrasted against her pale, sun deprived skin.

_"It would be a shame if something were to happen to you."_

The words had barely sunk into her mind before she was caught in his tight embrace, his wings smothering her.

She was a butterfly in the web of a black widow.

**End**

I've always wanted to do a dark, demonic story like this where Usagi isn't portrayed as an angel. I wanted to show a different side of her; a tortured Princess stuck between her own desires and the fate of her people. I hope you enjoyed it! Would you kindly review? (;


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